


A Free Woman

by lit_chick08



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: ADWD spoilers, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fic Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 02:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lit_chick08/pseuds/lit_chick08
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having her so close is the worst sort of torture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Free Woman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [midnightblack07](https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightblack07/gifts).



Having her so close is the worst sort of torture. Jon knows he cannot send Val away; Stannis has made it clear that the wildling princess must remain at Castle Black and, as such, Jon cannot help but glimpse Val at every turn. All it takes is a flash of gold in the corner of his eye, and Jon finds himself turning to see the tumble of blonde curls disappearing around a corner. When the wind starts to blow, chilling him through to the bone, he looks up towards her cell and can see the bright splashes of pink on her cheeks. The men notice too; it seems to Jon he cannot enter a room without walking into a conversation about the shapeliness of Val's body, the beauty of her face, the grace of her movements. It doesn't matter how many times he yells at the men, reminds them of their vows; one of the men, some bastard from the Riverlands, drawls how mayhaps Jon wants to keep all the wildling women to himself, what with his preference for them, and it takes five of his brothers in black to pull Jon off of Rivers.

He sends Rivers to Eastwatch and makes sure to avoid Val as much as possible.

Ghost starts spending his time with her. Jon is used to his wolf doing whatever it is he pleases, but his affection for Val bothers him. It isn't odd for Jon to barely see the direwolf for days only to eventually find him padding alongside Val, bumping his broad head against her hip, tilting his head back for Val to scratch beneath his muzzle. One afternoon Jon is summoned to Selyse's chambers, and, when he leaves, he moves towards Val's under the guise of checking in to make sure she no one has bothered her. The men tend to know better now; she's bled two of them and permanently scarred another, but that doesn't mean some of the other Free Folk won't try to steal her away.

He knocks on the door, announces out who it is, and, after a moment, he hears Val's voice call out, “Enter.”

The air leaves his lungs immediately. It is uncomfortably warm in her chambers, a large fire crackling in the hearth. Val kneels nude on a shadowcat pelt before the fire, her hair gathered over one shoulder to reveal the smooth skin of her back; she dips a rag into a pot of hot water and drags it down her arm as she twists her head to look at Jon, her face utterly serene. 

“Did you need something, Lord Snow?”

For a moment, he can only look at her, words having failed him. With the firelight flickering over her face, she looks like some goddess in one of the books Maester Luwin always said was not for their eyes and Theon would steal from the library anyway. He never got to truly look upon Ygritte like this, and he wonders if all women are as beautiful as this.

“I wanted - “ He clears his throat, dropping his gaze to the ground. “I wanted to see if there is anything you needed.”

“Would you give me what I need?” 

He hears her stand, moving closer to him, and the impulse to flee is nearly as strong as it is to grab her and pull her to him. Jon wills himself to keep his eyes on the ground, but when he sees her feet before his, Jon cannot help but look up, drinking in the length of her legs, the golden triangle between her thighs, the curve of her stomach, the swell of her breasts; by the time his eyes meet Val's, a hint of a smile plays at her lips. 

“Are you going to fulfill my needs, Jon?”

There is something about the sound of his name on her lips that makes fire burn in his veins, desire coiling in the pit of his stomach. “I am glad you're well. Good night, Val.”

As he hurries from the room, he swears he saw irritation flash across Val's face.

* * *

He is in the middle of checking the food stores when Satin comes to find him, tells him there is some kind of trouble in the yard with Val. Cursing under his breath the whole way, he expects to find another of his men maimed. He does not expect Pyp to be getting to his feet, a ribbon of blood on his neck, Val's hand holding onto his arm.

“What the hells is going on?”

Pyp shakes his head, pressing his hand to his wound. “I didn't do nothing, Jon, I swear! She just came at me out of nowhere! Tell him! Tell him I didn't touch you!”

“He didn't touch me,” Val obediently repeats.

“Then why is he bleeding?”

“Because I stole him.” Turning towards Pyp, she informs him, “You're mine now.”

“Yours? What?” Pyp looks to Jon, who feels as if he has been struck in the head with a rock. “What does she mean?”

“It means you're _mine_ to do with what I like. I've stolen you and now you're mine.”

“He cannot be yours!” Jon finally explodes. “He is a man of the Night's Watch. We take no wives - “

“Aye, and he did not _take_ me; I took _him_.” Though her words are directed towards Pyp, her eyes never leave Jon's as she adds, “And I'll take him again tonight and every night after if I see fit.”

“You won't.”

Val lifts her chin. “How will you stop me?”

So filled with fury, Jon swears he could murder someone, he turns on Pyp and growls, “If you fuck her, I will geld you.”

Pyp's eyes go wide as he looks between Jon and Val before nodding. Jon orders him to go see to his wound, and Val glowers at him, crossing her arms over her ample chest.

“You think I can't steal another? Not all of your men will listen so easily to you.”

“I will lock you in your cell,” he threatens.

“And some crow will bring me food, won't they? No women on the Wall after all.” Val lifts an eyebrow. “Mayhaps your kneeler women don't have any needs, but I have no intention of spending winter with a cold bed.”

Jon wants to shake her. He wants to kiss her.

When he recommitted himself to the Night's Watch, Jon vowed his own wants would not matter anymore, and so he lets her pass.

* * *

She steals Grenn the next morning, Satin two days after that, some beardless recruit whose name Jon doesn't even know the following week; even Dolorous Edd is stolen one afternoon, and, when Jon gives him the same speech he has given every man Val has stolen, he flatly drawls, “How sad. I already picked out names for our children. Was going to name one of them after you. Always dreamed of a son called Lord Commander.”

It is only after Bowen Marsh comes to him late one night to announce he has been stolen and Jon _must_ do something about her before the men lose their heads entirely. Though he has never been much for drinking, Jon shares two tankards with Tormund and asks the older man how best to handle the situation.

Tormund's laugh is so violent, it shakes his entire body. “I thought Ygritte taught you what to do in this situation!”

“I am a brother of the Night's Watch.”

“And Val is going to fuck all of your brothers while you die frozen with an icicle where your cock should be.”

Jon is unsteady on his feet as he climbs the stairs to Val's chamber. He takes several steadying breaths before knocking on her door, demanding to be let in. There is a terribly long pause before he hears Val unbar the door, opening it with an amused smirk on her face. “Is there something you need, Lord Snow?”

“I am ordering you to stop stealing my men.”

Her smirk becomes a full blown smile as she counters, “Do you?”

“Yes! And if you don't – If you don't - “

“What, Jon?” Her hand rises to trace the neckline of her gown. “What is the punishment for trying to fuck your men?”

He doesn't mean to move forward, doesn't mean to clasp her face between his palms and kiss her as if his life depends on it. As he urges her into the chamber, slamming the door with a careless kick of his foot, all Jon can think about is how sweet her mouth tastes, how warm and soft she is beneath his hands. Val moans, her fingers twisting in the front of his shirt before pushing him back with all of her strength. For a moment, Jon is startled, his breathing fast; now that he has known her kiss, he can admit there is no way he is going to return to his cell and not see this through. 

“I am a free woman,” Val reminds him, her voice hoarse with desire.

“I know.”

“Then you had best plan on how you intend to steal me.”

Shock is not a strong enough word for what Jon feels in that moment. “What?! But you have been driving me absolutely mad for weeks now so that I would do this!”

“Aye, but I am not going to make it easy for you.” She places her hands on his chest, pulling him in for one last, lingering kiss. Jon groans as she palms him through the placket of his breeches, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip. “You should get some rest, Jon. I am not an easy woman to steal.”

As Val pushes him out into the corridor, his cock straining in his breeches, his heart racing, Jon doesn't know if his head spins because of the alcohol he shared with Tormund or because of Val but he does know one thing with absolute certainty: he is going to need to be sober as a septon when he tries to steal Val come morning.


End file.
